Get on Your Knees, and Do Your Duty
by The Plastic Owl
Summary: Hey, you! You wanna gleefully read some man-on-man smut whilst gawking at your laptop? Well, here's your chance! Starring Hawkeye, B.J, and Radar ... 'The Bugle Boy'.


Get on Your Knees and Do Your Duty

Walter Eugene 'Radar' O'Reilly was feeling pretty darn swell that day, thank you very much. He had been praised by Colonel Potter for getting the coffee just right, he had managed to avoid the curmudgeonly Frank Burns, and his pet lamb, Boosie, was getting fatter by the day.

He looked over to the medic tent, where Hawkeye and B.J. were standing outside, having a smoke. Radar couldn't help but feel a bit smug, as he watched their languid movements, and bloodshot eyes. Hawkeye had the beginnings of stubble, and B.J.'s hair was a mess. They had been drinking heavily last night, clearly.

He was about to go over there and see if they wanted to join him in a game of bridge when snippets of their conversation drifted over to him.

'God-fucking-damn, it's been so long since I had me a slice of fresh, juicy pussy.'

Radar stopped in his tracks. That couldn't be Hawkeye, could it?

'You're damn fuckin' right.' He heard B.J. spit on the ground. 'All I wanna do is just grab one of those nurses and make her squeal as I shoved my dick into her cooze hole.'

'Yeah, but we've had 'em all, and I'm sick of the same ol' bitch meat. Plus, Frank's given Major Houlihan gonorrhoea.'

'I guess that's why they call her 'Hot Lips'!'

'YOUR FUCKIN' A!'

The two men burst into laughter. Radar, now very nervous and disturbed, realised that he was in plain view. As quickly and quietly as possible, he tried to sneak into the food tent.

'Hey.'

He stood still.

'.. C'mere.'

Reluctantly, a small ball of dread starting to form in his stomach, he walked over to the pair. He tried to appear casual as he walked over to Hawkeye and B.J.

'Oh, hey fellas. Uh, I was just goin' over to the food tent, y'know. Have a cup of coffee and a slice of pie.'

This made the two doctors roar with laughter. Radar giggled to appease them, on the verge of hysteria.

'A. Piece. Of. Pie.' Hawkeye squinted as he took a drag on his cigarette.

'You know, you giggle like a girl.' B.J.'s hand shot out, and he grasped Radar's face, fingers pressed into his cheeks to make his lips pout slightly. 'Got skin like a girl, too.'

'I make sure to use a lot of soap,' Radar said quietly.

This amused Hawkeye and B.J. once more, and as they threw back their heads in laughter, Radar tried to make his escape.

'Y'know fellas, I oughtta –'

'You oughtta what?' As B.J. tightened his grip on Radar's face, Hawkeye stubbed out his ciggie, and then slipped around to grasp Radar by the shoulders. 'Huh? You oughtta _what_?'

'I have to go,' Radar said quietly, tears starting to well in his eyes. There had been rumours about B.J. and Hawkeye, away from the camp and out in the field… _doing things_, but he hadn't believed them. These were his pals, his friends. They would never-

He heard the 'snick', and then felt the point of Hawkeye's pocket knife press into the small of his back.

'Scream and I'll cut ya,' Hawkeye whispered.

They marched him over to the showers, not giving a fucking damn who saw them. Radar at this point had started to weep, and Hawkeye and B.J., their masks of joviality and kindness back on, would explain to the curious that Radar was missing 'the taste of his mother's warm apple pie'.

Once the flap of the tent had been shut, and the three of them were in total privacy, they stripped Radar naked, ignoring his pleas. As Hawkeye pressed the knife against his chest, B.J. solemnly removed his clothes.

'Why, why are you doing this?'

'Get down on your knees, son. Do your duty.'

Radar, still weeping, got down on his knees. Hawkeye went to remove his glasses, when B.J. interjected.

'Leave 'em on. Let him see this magnificent cock.'

B.J. thrust his cock into Radar's face. It was red and hard, and his balls were tight and firm.

'Touch it.'

Radar hesitated, and B.J. slapped him across the face with his straining penis.

'I said _touch it_.'

Radar poked it with his finger. Dissatisfied, this time B.J. smacked him with the palm of his hand.

'If you ain't gonna _clench _that shit boy, then I suppose I have no choice but to make you _suck _it!'

Hawkeye, who was also now naked, held Radar's head still as B.J. forced himself into his mouth. He could taste the salty precum on the head, and started to gag as B.J. slid his penis deep into his throat.

'You take that. You take that from you're old friend B.J.,' Hawkeye panted. Radar could feel Hawkeyes dick pressing against the back of his head, rubbing his curls. Assaulted from all sides, Radar gave in. He grasped B.J.'s thighs, and formed his lips into an 'o'. His cock now properly lubricated, B.J started to slide it in and out faster, enjoying the feeling of Radar's tongue on his shaft. Radar was beginning to think it was almost over when Hawkeye came up with a suggestion.

'Hey, B.J. Let's play 'Fire in the Hole'.'

Radar gasped for air as the dick was removed from his mouth, and B.J. and Hawkeye high-fived. Mind reeling with thoughts about what 'Fire in the Hole' could be, Radar began to let out a high pitch shriek of fear and panic when B.J. put his foot against his chest and kicked him backwards. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and before he had time to draw in another breath B.J. sat on his chest. As B.J forced him to resume sucking his dick, he could feel a pair of hands tug on his balls. This was slightly painful, and yet not unpleasant. Then a tongue began to slowly lick his dick. Guessing that this was Hawkeye working him from the other end, he felt a feeling of disgust well inside himself as he found himself enjoying it.

'Uh, uh uh, uh' B.J. grunted, giving Radar some hardcore face-fucking, the back of Radar's head banging against the tiles. Hawkeye slid a finger inside his asshole.

Finally the torture ended when B.J. spurted hot cum down his throat, and then pinched his nose, forcing him to swallow. Even though he had been close, sadistically so, Radar had not managed to come. Hawkeye noticed this, and pinched his balls.

'You think you're a real man, do ya, Mister Bugle player?'

'Nooo,' Radar cried, coughing up B.J.'s sperm.

'I'm going to turn you into a _real man_, boy! I'm going to play your bugle! Pucker up, fucker!'

'NOOOOO!'

Hawkeye picked him up, and slammed him against a shower stall, spreading his legs.

'Hand me that soap, B.J. This little bitch likes his soap!'

B.J. tossed him the soap, and Radar squealed as Hawkeye began to rub it against his tender asshole. But Radar really began to scream when Hawkeye dropped the soap, and he could feel his erection begin to penetrate.

'Bugle boy,' Hawkeye crooned, as his cock was encased by the entirety of Radar's rectum.

'Spicy,' whispered B.J.

It was pain unlike any that Radar had ever felt. They were ripping his asshole apart!

'Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!' Hawkeye groaned, thrusting deep into Radar. Radar's flabby body shook with each thrust, his buttocks jiggling. Hawkeye grabbed the back of his hair, and pulled, making Radar scream louder.

'What's going on in here? Oh, OH MY GOD.'

Time seemed to stand still as Father Mulcahey stood in the entrance to the tent, watching B.J. fap his dick, and Hawkeye, now motionless, using his cock to clog young Radar's butthole.

'AAARGH!'

Releasing his MAGNIFICENT COCK, B.J. grabbed Hawkeye's pocket knife, stabbing Father Mulcahey in the chest in a frenzy. As Radar began once again to shrilly screech in pain and fear, Hawkeye started to sodomise him with the speed and strength of a water buffalo, turned on to a state of ecstasy by the murder and the mayhem.

'UUUURRRRGH!' Father Mulcahey gurgled as his blood began to trickle into the drain.

'UUUUURRRGH!' Hawkeye growled, as he shot his sperm inside Radar O'Reilly.

Radar collapsed, breathing heavily, numb. Hawkeye stumbled over to B.J. Both of them looked down at the dead priest.

'You know, we'll get life for that,' said B.J.

'Well,' Hawkeye murmured, locating his gun amongst his pile of clothes. 'At least we went out with a bang.'

He shot B.J. before turning the gun on himself. Radar lay on the floor for some time, before getting up and showering. He was quite surprised that nobody had come into the tent after the gun shots, but then perhaps there was an emergency at the hospital. Once he was fresh and clean, he gingerly got back into his clothes. He then exited the tent.

Perhaps in the food tent there was still a leftover piece of pie.


End file.
